


Alive

by scribblemoose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin gets to know the new Morgana a little better, not long after the end of episode 3.02.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

Morgana is many things: beautiful, passionate, fragile, powerful. Dangerous.

Morgana is Merlin's enemy.

Morgana is clutching Merlin's shoulders, her delicate feet balanced at the small of his back, and every time he thrusts into her he sees a tiny, terrifying glint of gold in her eyes.

Morgana is _alive_.

Merlin's fingers tremble in Morgana's hair; his knuckles brush her cheek with a tenderness that makes her flinch. He can see the pink tip of her tongue pressing against her teeth; the skin flushes at her throat and across her cheeks. Her back arches, her thighs start to shake and she clenches around his cock in short, rhythmic pulses. Merlin takes a moment's triumphant satisfaction in her pleasure; not that she's vulnerable in this moment, or that he conquered her, but that for a few fleeting moments she smiles. It's her old smile, genuine and beautiful and real, and Merlin can believe, in that instant, that nothing bad has happened. That she's still there, _his_ Morgana, the Morgana who helped him save a child, who fought for Ealdor.

Then she's done, and Merlin's close, so close, his eyes sliding shut-

"No." The word rasps from her throat, and for a moment Merlin's lost. It takes everything for him to stop; to fight the instinct to plunge deep inside her and-

"Not inside, here, I want you to, here, now, Merlin _here_ …"

He has no idea what she wants but lets himself be guided. He pulls out, slick and wet, and she's tugging at his hips, pulling him up her body. He ends up straddling her ribs; she wraps slender fingers around his cock, caressing him lightly, teasing, pulling him down….

… Merlin's eyes follow his cock as Morgana pulls him to her breasts. Flawless, creamy skin with a trail of tiny freckles leading towards her neck. He finally realises what she wants.

"Oil," he says. "Give me the…"

A small vial is pressed into his hand; he unstoppers it and pours from a height, so that it splashes messily on her skin, running down the curve of her breasts to the valley between them. The air blooms with the scent of rosemary and lavender. He dips his thumb in the pool that collects there and swipes it across one hard nipple. She gasps. He swipes again, then runs his hands over her skin, one over each soft, firm breast, to cup them, press them together.

He leans in, resting his cock between Morgana's breasts, unable to take his eyes off what he's doing. It's too hot, too soft, too much. He moves, sliding back and forth easily in the slickness of the oil. Morgana is breathing hard; she's watching too, her eyes darting every now and then from her breasts and Merlin's cock, up to Merlin's face. He looks back at her and doesn't know for sure whether he loves her or hates her or pities her; all he knows is that this is exhilerating, like running, like flying, like _magic_.

"Come on, Merlin."

He blinks, wishes the savagery out of her voice, gasps, and comes in thick, sticky spurts over her breasts and neck and chin. Just when his brain is threatening him with reason she grabs him and pulls roughly at him. He has no resistance, no strength that isn't being tugged out of his body through his prick, and so he watches in awe and disbelief as she opens her mouth and takes him in; stains his cock with rich, red lipstick as he finishes coming on her tongue and teeth and lips.

He might die, he thinks, as his body shudders and twitches at Morgana's mercy. In that moment he is truly helpless. He put himself here. He let the fury between them turn into this and now….

Morgana pushes him away while his mind's still blank, and he finds himself on his knees at her side, panting for breath. She shoves his clothes at him and he stares at the blue shirt in his arms, trying to make sense of it.

"Get out," she hisses. "Get out before I call the guards."

Merlin scrambles off the bed and into his clothes, fumbles with his boots. He looks up warily, and meets Morgana's gaze.

It's not all bad, he realises. There's more in there than hatred. _She's_ still in there, somewhere.

"Go," Morgana tells him, her eyes set, lips fixed in a firm, thin line. She clutches a sheet to her chest. But her voice trembles as she says, again, " _Go_ , Merlin."

Merlin runs his fingers through his hair, and goes.

 _~fin~_   



End file.
